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Es Una Bufanda

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Every morning, without fail, you jogged by the Italian restaurant hoping to catch a glimpse of a certain blue-and-green-striped scarf. The first time you had seen him it had been entirely accidental, but after seeing his dashing smile, you couldn’t help yourself. You had to see him again.

You noticed that his favorite meal there was spaghetti. God, to be that spaghetto. Oh, how you longed to be that lone noodle travelling up to Billy’s mouth. How badly you wished to be ravaged by that dextrous tongue saving the tomato sauce from falling. How absolutely desperate you were for - -

“Hola, can I help you?”

Your eyes widened and you stammered incoherently. You could feel the blood draining from your face and, mortified, you wondered how long your “break” near his table must have been while you stared at him.

“Well?” he pressed, looking expectantly at you over his charming sunglasses.

You had to think fast. Enough was enough. You had been ogling Billy for too long and you could no longer stand to let the opportunity slip past you; however, just as you opened your mouth to finally reveal your feelings for Billy, he raised his hand in a “stop” motion.

“I think I know what this is about,” he chuckled.

“You do?” you whispered; you felt about ready to faint.

“Oh, yes, I’ve seen you around here all the time, and I’ve seen how you look at me. Tell me,” he stood up and walked closer to you, “do you like what you see?”

Your heart was thumping so loudly that, especially now that Billy had moved a few mere inches from your body, he must be able to hear it going mad.

“Ah, I see,” he said just quiet enough for you to hear, “perhaps you would feel more comfortable telling me your thoughts in a more… private setting…?”

You quickly nodded up and down, head bobbing like the fool you were for falling for Billy. He grinned at your eager response, and took hold of your hand, steering you straight for his house down the road. Though the town was small and he must only live a few minutes from the restaurant, the walk felt like an eternity. Finally, you arrived at his house, a beige block of suburban glory not unlike all the other houses in town.

Billy led you in, and you were expecting to head further inside. Instead, Billy pushed you against the front door - now closed - with surprising force for someone of his size. He stretched up to your ear and growled.

“So, y/n, we were discussing your… situation.”

You shuddered. “I can explain…” you trailed off, with no intentions of explaining.

“Oh, I think I’ve seen enough to know what you really want,” he murmured, taking the time to accent his words with short nips to your neck.

You gasped out in surprise, “B-Billy…”

“Ohh, y/n…” he responded mischievously. He began running his hands along your sides as he breathed, “tell me, y/n…” He grabbed your arms and, not being tall enough to secure them above your head, settled for keeping them pinned where they were against the front door. “Tell me what you want,” he growled.

“I… I want you, Billy,” you choked out, hardly able to form coherent thoughts as his soft and surprisingly warm body was now pressed flush against your own. You felt extreme heat beginning to build in your lower body, and you closed your eyes tightly as he chuckled at your clear desire.

“I see someone’s excited to see me,” Billy joked, letting go of your left arm and lightly running his right hand along your thighs. “But now, I want to hear you tell me where you want me.”

You gulped, and he released you, stepping back to look at what he had done. You were shuddering and breathing hard, face flushed and sweating slightly. Billy licked his lips and placed his hands gingerly on his hips.

“I didn’t hear an answer yet, y/n. Perhaps, yet again, you need a change in environment,” he smirked, dragging you through his house to his bedroom. There, you noticed with utter shock, lay two pink boots, fondling one another noisily atop his bed.

“Oh, Botas!” he called endearingly at them, alerting them to your presence. “I’ve brought us a friend for tonight,” he said in a low voice that caused a surge of desire to flow down below.

The boots looked at you with hungry, heavy-lidded eyes, and quickly hopped off the bed, now pushing you towards it. “Sit, sit,” they commanded in unison. It was a bit unnerving, but when you looked back up at Billy’s encouraging smile, you felt more comfortable with the situation.

“Now then,” continued Billy, “where were we?” He eyed your pants with a glint of lust. “Ah yes… we must do something about that.” He moved in between your legs, lightly spreading them further apart as he moved to unbutton your pants.

You gasped; he was surprisingly rough in disposing the pants as they were flung across the room. He began lowering his head slowly, but you were growing impatient and squirmed underneath him. He stopped abruptly, and looked you straight in the eyes.

“Now, now, y/n. You never answered my question earlier; where - do - you - want - me?” With each pause his soft hands brushed higher and higher along your thighs, and you could hear the boots giggling below the bed somewhere.

“Billy, I-I… I need you to fuck me…!” you groaned through gritted teeth. He smiled; this was the answer he was looking for.

Without wasting any more time, Billy yanked down your boxers and wrapped his soft mouth along your member. You screwed your eyes shut and fell back against his bed as he worked his magic on you. He hopped up onto the bed, closer to your body, and wrapped himself around your thighs, squeezing occasionally.

Meanwhile, the boots began rubbing against your legs excitedly, eventually fitting themselves onto your feet. They were comfortingly warm, and their presence down their along with Billy’s experienced motions were enough to drive you crazy; enough to nearly tip you off the edge.

“Ah… Billy…. If you… keep going like that,” you panted, “I don’t think… I can last much longer…”

Billy did not respond, but instead began bobbing and squeezing faster. Your hand gripped his sheets, when suddenly -


“What the….”

Your head shot straight up as you looked in terror to find your roommate, Thomas Aranda, had opened the door to your room to find you completely naked, save for two pink boots on your feet and a Billy la Bufanda scarf wrapped around your quivering pp.

The door slowly closed as Thomas later committed suicide after having witnessed the atrocity of his roommate fucking a scarf.

The End.